


The Maze

by Unwieldyink



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen, frazel but like not really, the ending is VERY rushed but I'm sorry I was edging towards my word cap and, uh yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 16:43:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16916535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unwieldyink/pseuds/Unwieldyink
Summary: Retelling of Theseus and the Minotaur with Hazel and Frank!Pretty self explanatory, lolHazel is Theseus, Frank is the Minotaur, but spoilers she doesn't kill him.Yup that's it.





	The Maze

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Camp Half-Blood forum over on ff (link: fanfiction.net/forum/Camp-Half-Blood/215292/). Come join if you want to!  
> Also, this is WAY longer than I meant it to be, sorry! I hope someone still enjoys it tho lol!

Hazel Levesque knew the rumors.

They all knew the rumors.

The group of poor young adolescents chosen to be 'apprentices' to the king knew them too, knew the tales of what awaited them. The king's agents said nothing of violence, but one could taste it in the way they warned the teenagers of the finality of their decision.

Not that they ever really had a choice. They were starving children, their parents pushing them away in the attempt to have one less mouth to feed. "This is an opportunity," they'd say, "To get a better life."

But everyone knew the king's apprentices never came back, not even their bodies.

Hazel had heard the tales of the monster in the palace basement ever since she was a little girl. She remembered when she first heard it. Five years old, playing barefoot outside in the mud, when her neighbor approached her.

"Are you getting your clothes all filthy, young lady?" The woman asked, her hands on her hips and her lips pursed in disapproval.

"My mother said I could play," Hazel replied, matter-of-fact.

"Are you sure? Now she's going to have to waste perfectly good water to clean you. It’d be a shame to see her get tired of you."

"Tired of me?" Hazel stopped and looked at the woman.

"Oh, it's happened before. Naughty children who love to get into trouble push their parents a step too far, and…” She started playing with her hair. “Well, I'm sure your mother would never send you to  _ him _ ."

"To who? To who? Tell me!" Hazel was listening intently now, mud spraying up as she jumped up and down excitedly. Her neighbor frowned and took a step back, inspecting the hem of her dress for mud speckles. When she was satisfied with her cleanliness, she continued.

"Do you know the king's palace, a few days walk east?" Hazel nodded. She didn't quite understand east and west yet, but she knew the king's fancy house from the village gossip.

"Well," her neighbor continued, "they keep a monster there." Hazel's eyes widened in childish fascination, but she kept silent, every inch of her attention on the woman in front of her.

"Every year, we send fourteen children, and let them be gobbled up by the monster.” Hazel gasped, but her neighbor paid no mind. “Only the naughtiest are sent. Ones who might, for example, get their nice dress muddy, or play too loudly on a neighbor's lawn."

Hazel looked down worriedly, taking note of the mud on her clothes, then glanced over at the proximity of her neighbor's grand house. She turned back to the spot her neighbor had been an instant before, but the woman had vanished.

Surprised, Hazel took a step back. She dug her heel into the mud, suddenly not so excited to frolic. With a gulp, she turned and rushed into her house.

That was nine years ago. Hazel was now fourteen, and well aware of the rumors. On the mornings when the group of teenaged 'apprentices' were marched away, she had gotten into the habit of waking up at dawn and peering through her second story window, to see boney teens clad in white climb aboard a flock of rowboats.

One year, there was an especially plentiful harvest. Suddenly, no families had too many mouths to feed, and there were no new orphans who had no one to protect them. Hazel was twelve. When the king’s agents made the announcement at the town meeting- that it was time to gather more apprentices- they were met with nothing but silence. Hazel’s mother put a firm hand on her shoulder- which surprised Hazel, as her mother had recently been growing… distant.

When a week passed and still no volunteers came forth, the king’s agents stepped up again to encourage teens to sign up. They called it loyalty, a service to their king and their community. When that didn’t work, either, the agents declared that they had to pick randomly.

Hazel later asked why they couldn’t just go gather kids from some other town, but all she got from Queen Marie was that she shouldn’t wish pain on others in exchange with her own. Which meant that she didn’t know either.

Hazel didn’t think much of the situation, at first. Kids had gone before. Sometimes even ones she knew- in that she passed them on the street and nodded a hello. But none of them had really affected her before. She honestly didn’t expect them to.

But then, the next morning, as she rose to watch her peers row to their deaths again, her heart stopped.

He was standing there, the ceremonial white robes hanging off of his thin frame. He seemed to be telling a joke, a weak smile on his face in an attempt to raise the spirits of the terrified-looking girl next to him.

Sammy.

Hazel ran. She bolted downstairs, flew out of her front door, and started running as fast as she could towards the pier. The kids were already on the boats, and one of the king’s agents was loosing the rope. Hazel called out Sammy’s name. His head snapped up, and he stood up on the boat. She saw his lips form the word “Hazel,” even though she was too far away to hear him.

The boats began rowing away. Sammy’s eyes, wide as saucers, flicked over to agent of the king, clearly debating jumping overboard and taking his chance swimming. But before he could act, the agent swung his boat around to position himself between Sammy and the shore. Hazel didn’t know what the agent said, but whatever it was, it forced Sammy to meet Hazel’s eyes once more, and then reluctantly ease himself back down into the boat. The agent kept his sword out, pointed at Sammy’s chest so that the boy could do nothing but pick up an oar and begin to row.

Hazel was standing on the shore now, staring dully at the boats disappearing into the fog. She knew she’d never catch up if she jumped in. They must have come for the kids the night before- or maybe even that morning. They came, and in less than twelve hours, without her hearing a word of it, they had taken her best friend away from her.

Sammy never came back. Of course he never came back- none of the apprentices ever did. But in the two years since, Hazel hadn’t stopped thinking about it. And she decided that she was going to stop it. No matter what it took, she would stop the annual sacrifices.

She tried with the agents, first. Arguing with them, threatening them, bribing them. Nothing worked. One of the agents joked with her once: “The only way you can get the king to change his mind, little lady, is by slaying the monster yourself.”

The other agents barked out laughter at the thought of Hazel slaying the fearsome beast, but she looked the mockery right in the eyes. “Fine, then,” she told the agent. “I will.”

They roared with laughter, but Hazel was already formulating a plan.

.

.

Hazel had had a talent for as long as she could remember. Well, she liked to call it a talent. Her mother called it a ‘curse’.

But it didn’t matter. Whatever it was, it had persisted with Hazel since her birth. She was, for some reason or another, interminably tied with precious metals. Jewels, money, and weapons gravitated towards her without so much as a thought. It had gotten her into trouble plenty of times- and Sammy into even more trouble. The boy was often caught with his pockets full of gems and accused of thievery- sometimes by the very same agents who later took him away.

She thought of this now, perched on a porch railing and watching various colored jewels sift through the dirt beneath her feet. Maybe they wouldn’t have taken him away if the agents weren’t already so familiar from those accused crimes. Maybe it was Hazel’s fault.

No time to think of that now. She’d dreamed up a million different ways that she could’ve prevented Sammy’s death, and not one of them helped anything. The only thing to do now was to focus on her self assigned mission.

She was going to slay whatever monster lurked in the palace dungeons. And to do it, she was going to volunteer to be one of the fourteen.

She didn’t bother to tell her mother. Marie would try to stop her, of course, and Hazel couldn’t have that. Besides, if she succeeded, she wouldn’t be gone for more than a week.

Would she succeed? Hazel honestly didn’t know. She’d been practicing with a sword for months now, training herself in agility, stamina, strength. But was it enough to fight a monster? She didn’t even know what the monster would be like.

But it didn’t matter. The day for the next fourteen to be round up was here, and Hazel was going, ready or not.

Two years since the last time she saw Sammy. Two years since she’d made the promise to end this. And Hazel Levesque was not one to go back on promises.

She sat by her front door, waiting, all throughout the night. The evening before, Hazel made her mother a huge meal, washed down with a cup of tea- which she knew would keep the Queen in a deep sleep. So when she heard the knock on the door, she slipped out quietly and joined the others.

The first thing the agents did when Hazel step outside was confiscate her sword- then confiscate her hidden knife, too, once they searched her.

“Then how are we supposed to defend ourselves from the monster?” she asked. The agents passed suppressed smiles among themselves, and with a chill, Hazel understood the unspoken reply:  _ you don’t. _

As they began their march towards the pier, Hazel cast a glance back at her house- specifically, her bedroom window, where she’d nestled for years before, watching this procession from safety. She knew no one would be in there right not, but as she marched in a clump through the open stretch of land between her house and the shore, she still felt watched herself.

They reached the boats, and Hazel sat down gingerly, already feeling nervousness bloom in her stomach. She had to admit that this was the part she was looking forward to the least- those dreaded boats. Even though she’d grown up with the water almost always in sight, she’d never been much of a sailor.  _ Never quite found her sea legs, _ an old fisherman who used to live nearby would say. And it was true. Hazel spent most of the trip dizzy and nauseous.

But the parade reached its destination, and Hazel stumbled away from the boats thankfully, even though she knew what came next was even worse.

They passed through the city quickly, still quiet in the early hours of the morning. Yet even with the circumstances and the fact that they were essentially prisoners being taken to their execution, Hazel couldn’t help but be amazed, and she could tell that the other apprentices were, too. She’d never been in a city this big before, with buildings twice the size of her house and courtyards that she could imagine had bustling people of all sorts in the day. It was a gorgeous city. But they’d barely walked half an hour before they reached the grandest of the grand- the palace.

Hazel stopped breathing for a second when they rounded the corner and the massive building came into view. Taller than anything she’d ever seen before, with colorful mosaics and intricate sculptures lining the walls and columns- it was hard not to just stand and stare. But the agents seemed accustomed to their victims being awed, as they gave the kids only a few seconds to stare before prodding their backs and urging them along. So they were brought inside, down a long hallway, through another hallway, and finally down a dark spiral staircase. The descent felt hours long, but finally, the narrow hall gave way to an arch. The agents pushed Hazel and the others through the arch, then stepped back quickly, their weapons still at the ready.

Hazel had no choice. She took a breath, turned, and descended into the great maze.

.

.

Hazel jumped, feeling someone watching her.

She whirled around, and exhaled in relief when she saw it was only another empty skeleton. They littered the labyrinth, their pearly white smiles playing tricks on Hazel in the dark. But they were commonplace- harmless. Hazel had, after maybe ten hours in the labyrinth, started making a game out of the bones. She would jump from pile to pile, crumbling the old ones and sliding on the fresher ones who weren’t ready to come apart yet. It was like some dark parallel to the games she’d play up on the surface, where she’d hop between crackling fallen leaves.

Part of her thought maybe she was going insane. The gnawing pain in her stomach was worsening with every minute, and it didn’t seem too far fetched that rational thought would soon leave her entirely. She needed food.

Hazel had no idea how long she’d been in the labyrinth, but if she had to guess, she would say four or five days. Of course, she was thirsty too, but the hunger was what really pressed on her mind at all times. She’d found a puddle of filthy water formed from a dripping ceiling at one point, and though it usually would disgust her, she now found the lukewarm water impossible to resist.

So that was where she was at. Four days with no food, maybe two cups worth of water, and no plan as to how to kill the monster.

At least she could find her way back, if she needed to. An hour into the maze, Hazel had stumbled over something, and upon closer inspection realized that it was a golden nugget. Looking behind her, she realized that the nuggets were scattered in her path- her talent was coming to some use after all. If she wanted to go back the way she came, all she needed was a torch, and there would be no problem following the reflective bits of metal.

Now, stumbling blindly, Hazel tripped over something. She leaned down, her hands coming upon something rough. Wood.

She lifted the thick branch, leaning it against her shoulder. Not much, but at least it was some defense against the monster, if she did end up finding it.

Hazel continued her dreary march, hoping to a scrap of light, a new floor beneath her feet,  _ anything  _ to break up the monotony of the darkness. For what felt like hours, none came.

But then, a rustling to her left prompted Hazel to lift her makeshift club. The smell of a filthy animal reached her, and her stomach dropped to her feet.

She didn’t find the monster. It found her.

Hazel swung blindly, bringing the branch to make brutal contact with some kind of flesh. A loud whimper sounded right next to her ear, and Hazel gave into her instincts. She turned and ran.

Forget killing the monster. Forget avenging Sammy and keeping the future kids of her village safe. That thing must have been twice her size; no way was she going to stop and stand her ground armed with nothing but a stick.

Something furry shot between her feet as she ran, making her trip and fall. She quickly hopped back up, but when she started running again, a human voice said: “Wait!”

Hazel froze. She hadn’t heard any voice but her own since she’d gotten into the maze. She turned around carefully, keeping a tight grip on her branch.

“W-Who’s there?”

“I- I’m-” A sound filled the dark hall, which started out like a human being strangled and somehow ended in a monstrous roar.

Hazel backed up, mute in terror, but didn’t bolt again. A snout brushed up against her leg, and she screamed and struck down on the thing.

“Stop that!” a human voice growled. “I’m-”

Hazel froze, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. “You’re…?” she whispered, fearful of the answer.

“I can’t,” the voice exhaled. “I’ll have to show you.”

“There’s no light down here.”

“There is in one spot. I know where it is.”

“What, so you want me to follow you?” Hazel asked. “Absolutely not! You’re the monster!”

“I- I don’t-” He sounded so miserable, Hazel almost put her club down. Almost.

Still, what was she going to do otherwise? Wander around until she starved to death? Hazel waited a moment, then sighed.

“Alright. Fine. But I’m not putting this thing down, so if you try anything-”

“Yes. Of course. Follow me.”

“I can’t see you.”

“Oh.” A hand loosely grabbed Hazel’s arm, leading her through the maze. After a minute, the hand drew back quickly, and the monster gasped. Or the boy gasped, or whatever he was. 

“Uh,” Hazel spoke up. She received no response. A second later, something nudged at her hand.

She pulled it back quickly, but then realized it must have been the monster- boy- whatever he was. She put her hand back down gingerly, eventually landing on a soft pelt. Her heart in her throat, she started walking again, now led by some animal instead of a person.

Eventually, they came to a place just like he had promised, where light filtered in through a crack the size of Hazel etched into the high ceiling. Now Hazel could finally see who it was leading her. It was… “A lion?”

She had only seen pictures of the things, but yes, that was definitely a lion, honey colored eyes blinking at her. The lion’s tail swished from side to side nervously, and he paced back and forth a few times. “Can you speak?” Hazel asked him tentatively.

The lion shook his head vigorously, more like he was trying to rid his head of a pesky bug than answering Hazel. She watched, unsure of what to do, and then readied her club again as the thing swelled in size. The lion seemed to be in pain, twisting and pulling inwards. But as he stumbled, Hazel watched as strangely humanistic features began to arise. After a minute, no longer was an animal in front of her, but a human boy in rags, kneeling in exhaustion.

The boy looked up at Hazel, his eyes flicking back and forth across her face.

“You- You’re- What?” Hazel had suddenly lost the ability to form sentences.

The boy stood. “It’s… surprising, I know.”

“How? I mean- how?”

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been like this since I was a child.”

“You… you’re a shapeshifter,” Hazel told him, remembering a storybook she’d discovered as a child.

“Sure, you could call it that.”

“And what do you call it?”

“Cursed.”

Hazel laughed bitterly. Upon seeing hurt flicker across his face, she held out her palms. “I’m sorry, it’s just- people say that I have a curse, too.”

“Well, what’s yours?” the boy asked.

Hazel turned and stared at the ground, feeling a tug in her chest. She focused on it, drawing it out, until- a glistening red ruby popped neatly through the surface.

“Oh.” The boy gave her a weird look. “That’s not a curse, that’s a gift.”

Hazel shrugged. “Still kills people.”

“How?”

“Dunno. Everyone I give one to dies.”

“Oh. I’m… sorry?” The boy looked back at the ruby. “That must be where those gold chunks were from. I found the trail, and followed it- to you.”

Hazel nodded, anxious to change the subject. “Um, by the way, what is- uh, do you have a name?”

The boy blinked, a smile tugging at his lips. “Of course I do. I’m Frank.”

Hazel burst out with a genuine laugh now. The monster feared by so many, locked away and given sacrifices every year, who had claws and teeth and could snap Hazel in half if he wanted to, was named Frank.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, I suppose, though I wish it was under better circumstances. I’m Hazel.”

“Nice to meet you too, Hazel.”

Hazel glanced up at the crack of light coming from the ceiling. “So, Frank… they built this all for you?”

“...Yes.” He put his hand on a wall. “Welcome to my prison.”

“It’s delightful,” Hazel deadpanned. “How have you even survived down here? Do you… you don’t…”

“I don’t eat the people they throw down here, if that’s what you’re thinking. They also funnel the trash from the city down here. That’s where I get my food. It’s not the healthiest, but-” he shrugged- “it’s all I’ve got.”

“So you’ve lived down here, with nothing but one crack of light and no food except for the garbage they throw away, for your whole life?”

“Since… since I was nine.”

Hazel shook her head. “Unbelievable.” Frank looked away.

Hazel waited a minute, letting everything sink in. Then she took a long, deep breath. “Well,” she said. “How about we break out of here?”

He laughed. “Just like that?”

“Well, what else are we supposed to do?”

“I… I don’t know, Hazel. Maybe I’m better off down here.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I won’t hurt anyone, at least.”

Hazel crossed her arms. “Don’t be dumb. If you’re worried about hurting people, you can get, like, a little cottage in the middle of nowhere, or something. There are better options than this.”

Frank looked at her. “Why do you care so much?”

“The only way to get them to stop taking kids away from my village is by taking you away from this place,” Hazel said honestly. “We’ll break out, show them you’re not a threat, and no one has to die anymore.”

Frank looked, down, his mouth pressed closed firmly. “But I am a threat,” he said softly. “I can’t control when I- when I change. It’s a wonder I’ve stayed human for this five minute conversation. I might hurt someone.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” Hazel pointed out. “Even when I hit you.”

Frank rubbed his head. “Yeah, don’t do that again, please,” he said. “But I mean- I’ve done a lot of work to control myself when I’m… changed… while I’ve been down here. But when I’m back up there, I have no idea what I’ll be like.”

“You’ll be fine. If you’re not, I’ll take you somewhere were you are fine.”

Frank looked at her. “Seriously?”

“Sure. You seem like a good guy. You don’t deserve this.”

“Th- Thanks, I guess,” he said. “But no one will believe that I’m harmless.”

Hazel thought for a minute. “I’ll just tell them I’ve killed you, then. I can spin a pretty good story.”

“Are you sure?” Frank asked.

“Positive.”

“I- I guess, yeah. Okay, yeah.” He smiled. “So we’re going to follow your gold back, then? But aren’t they kind of hard to see in the dark?”

Hazel nodded. “Yeah I’ve been thinking about that. But with fire, they’d be easy to follow.”

On the word  _ fire _ , Frank’s eyes widened to four times their original size. He laughed nervously. “Oh, ah, I’m not sure about that. That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“It’s- ah- I just don’t like fire, is all.”

“...Why?” Hazel asked incredulously.

“Uh…” Frank hesitated. “Well, I guess it’ll be fine. Just- keep it away from me.”

“Sure.” Hazel didn’t know why he was acting so weird, but this was not the time to ask. “Now, how to we get fire?” Hazel looked around, starting to think- before she remembered what she had in her hand. “Oh. Hey, help me pull this into two pieces of wood,” she said, holding out the branch. Frank gingerly took the other side of the top of the thing, and they pulled in opposite directions. It cracked down the middle, leaving two complete. Hazel set one piece on the ground, then started rubbing the other one on top of it rapidly between her hands. As soon as smoke started rising, Frank backed up all the way to the other side of the room, pressing his back against the wall. Hazel leaned back, admiring her work, before realizing she had no tinder for the steaming stick to catch on. Whoops. She looked around quickly, seizing a nearby pile of dirty straw. Not the best, but it would have to do.

Before long, she had a working torch. She stood up, sighing in relief, and turned to Frank. He was still pressed up against the wall, and didn’t seem to have any plans of moving.

“Uh,” Hazel said. “We can go now.”

Frank nodded slowly, inching towards her. When Hazel held the torch to the path she came from, she grinned at the twinkling gold nuggets. “Let’s go.”

.

.

Hazel Levesque had never been happier to feel sunlight beating down on her face.

After coming up from the maze, finding food and a bath and a bed, Hazel and Frank pushed through a crowd of people come to hear the king speak. Well, Hazel did. Frank huddled in her pocket as a mouse. He was incredibly bad at staying human.

Still, Hazel made her way to the front, and interrupted the king to say that she had killed the ferocious monster. She hefted up the head of a bull that she and Frank had snuck out and slain that morning, and told a detailed account of a battle with a half-bull, half-human beast down in the labyrinth. The agents of the king confirmed her story that, yes, she was one of the ones they had sent down there and that, yes, they had heard her claim that she was going to kill it. And how would she still be alive, unless she had killed it?

The people cheered for her. Hazel told them she wanted to get home, but the king insisted she stay for at least the day. So she did. But later, she snuck out, taking refuge on a balcony in the open air.

She sun was on her face. Her stomach was full of food. A new friend was huddled in her pocket. And no kids would ever be taken as ‘apprentices’ ever again.

Hazel had done what she set out to do.

And she was proud.


End file.
